


I'm Trying to Sleep (Don't Take It)

by iktwabrokenbone (apiculteur)



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apiculteur/pseuds/iktwabrokenbone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler doesn't feel strong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Trying to Sleep (Don't Take It)

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: pls check the tags to see all the triggers. stay safe, stay alive. |-/
> 
> writer gets mild writers block, uses as an excuse to procrastinate and write sad, shitty fics for no reason.
> 
> title from guns for hands

The thing which confused Tyler most was that it was thought to make you strong when you fought depression. He knew that it was difficult, but he didn't feel strong. Tyler never felt strong. He was weak.

Maybe he would feel strong if he was resisting something, but he wasn't. He didn't feel the urge to self harm- he was too afraid of pain, and that made him feel lucky sometimes. Surely, if he wasn't so terrified, he would be dead. He wasn't fighting the urge to hurt himself, though. He was just wishing death upon himself.

Maybe he would feel strong if he didn't have panic attacks, everything inside of him battling against each other, tears flowing, his lungs not working, his stomach churning. It's not like there was anything causing them, nothing that most other people couldn't handle. People told him he couldn't control it, couldn't stop anxiety, and that it wasn't weak. He struggled to believe them. Dropping a cup shouldn't make him cry.

Maybe he would feel strong if he didn't sometimes sob until his throat hurt, because he had decided to kill himself. He had been sure he would do it this time, had picked up the knife and pressed it against his skin, but stopped. As soon as the blade dug into his skin, stinging, then hurting and throbbing, he pulled away. He was scared, unable to do it, and that felt weak.

But after a while, anger and sadness won out against fear.

He did not feel strong when he found himself in hospital. He did not feel strong when his family were trying and failing not to cry when they saw him. He did not feel strong when he looked at his scars, or when he was out of hospital, or when he felt physically strong again, or when his hand slipped as he was shaving and he ended up in tears.

Strength was difficult to find. It was years and lots of people trying to convince him he had it, of going to therapy whenever he could afford it, and quitting therapy because it scared him, before he felt strong. Even then, it was fleeting.

It came from music, from using music to stop the past repeating itself. From standing on stage and sharing those weak parts of himself with other people who felt weak, using that to try make them all feel strong. Sometimes, it worked more than others. Sometimes, Tyler realised that he was alive and screaming and laughing, and sometimes that felt good.

**Author's Note:**

> hey so this isnt related to my writing at all but im coming out to my mum either friday or saturday as ~not a girl~ so i can ease her into the whole bigender thing. maybe ill even come out as bigender then, idk tbh. ill probs come out to my dad soon after. theyre good ppl theyll probs b cool w it, and i might be able to finally change my name!!! gotta be positive to hide the overwhelming fear. so yea thats a thing. bye.


End file.
